Behind Closed Doors
by OracleVortex
Summary: Miscellanious stories and fics about Lucius, Tom, Sirius and Blaise. Six new chapters up
1. My Disclaimer

Behind Closed Doors

By OracleVortex.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now, more than anything, this is a collection of stories and tales that revolve around the four characters that I play in a Harry Potter roleplay. They aren't in any sort of order, so don't feel bad if you sometimes get a little lost. They are for my own benefit, as well as those who roleplay with me. 

So…yeah… Most of them are pretty amusing, so enjoy if you want to. 

Disclaimer: 

Me: Hi Lucius. 

Lucius: Hey.

Me: Do I own you?

Lucius: I don't think so…should you?

Me: No. You aren't mine.

Lucius: But I could be. *wink*

Me: *Frown* You aren't helping my disclaimer.

Lucius: Then you should have gotten someone more agreeable, shouldn't you have?

Me: I guess.

Lucius: *sigh* Look, everyone. She doesn't own me or any other Harry Potter character etc. So leave her alone. 

Me: Thanks, Lucy.

Lucius: And don't call me that. 

There ya go. Now I don't have to do disclaimers anymore. Heh. THE JOY OF IT ALL!!

Happy belated turkey day! (Or Happy early turkey day for all my south of the border buddies…)


	2. Love and Marriage

Of Love and Marriage

*#*#* You heard me. Love and marriage. But, with who?*#*#*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius stretched out on the bed, posture curling like that of a cat. He twisted at the waist, and then flopped onto his stomach, blowing long bangs out of his eyes. He rolled over.

_Another game lost and put away…_ He thought miserably. _Goddam Potter…_ He had yet another disgrace on the Quidditch field, and it wasn't to his liking. Lucius was a damn good seeker, a technical flyer with pinpoint precision, but James… James flew like the broom was the extension of his arm, or that it was a part of him. He didn't need to practice moves and counter moves over and over because he flew the field like it was a playground. He did it on instinct. 

_Damn him._ Lucius would never admit it, but that's why James was better than him, and for a sliver of a fraction, that was also why he, on some level, respected him.

But only a little. That's it. 

"I'll beat him next time." Lucius muttered, sweeping his hair to one side. There wasn't an accompanying reply and he didn't expect one.

I wonder where Tom is… 

~~

It was late that night when the door to the dorm opened quietly. A lamp was blown out and left by the door, while silent footsteps padded across the cold floor. There was the rustling of clothing and a shirt was dropped onto the chair, along with a tie. Lucius shifted in the bed as the person crawled in beside him, wrapping long arms around him. 

"You're late." Lucius mumbled quietly.

"So?"

"Nothing." He said.

There was a sigh. "Thinking about the game?"

"No."

"Then what's your problem?"

"It's nothing."

"… Sure."

"Shut up, Tom."

There was a dry chuckle and then the room fell silent again. The drapes around the bed fluttered, the breeze from the window coming in. Both boys shivered, and moved closer together under the sheets. It was a while before either of them spoke again. 

"Lucius…" Tom said sleepily.

The blond barely heard him, but waited for the rest of the response. 

"I think we should see other people."

Lucius froze. Whatever he had wanted to hear, it wasn't that. "What?" 

There was no answer, and Tom's forehead rested on the back of his neck; a sure sign that he was already asleep. Lucius didn't know how long it was until he was in a right state of mind to do the same. 

~~

The next night, at a more reasonable hour, Lucius and Tom were in the same position, this time with the window firmly shut. Lucius stared at the pillow beside his head, fidgeting as Tom played with his long mane of hair.  Usually it was a nice gesture, but it didn't make him relax like it usually did. 

"Tom."

"What?" He asked lazily. 

"What did you mean?"

"About…?"

"Seeing other people."

"I want to see other people." Tom said bluntly. "Like girls."

Lucius sat up, wincing as Tom's fingers dragged in his hair. "You trying to tell me something?"

Tom sighed, sitting and sliding an arm around Lucius' waist. "Don't get emotional." He said, placing a chaste kiss on Lucius' jawline. 

"I'm not getting emotional." Lucius said blandly.

Tom sighed again, letting go of the other Slytherin to lie back down. "Look, I want a son one day, and I really don't think that you can help me with that sort of thing."

"So, that's it then?"

"I know you hate to share, but you're going to have to." Tom rolled away from him. "Otherwise, yes, that's it then."

Lucius embraced Tom from behind, effectively reversing their former positions. "Who?"

"Who?"

"Which girl?"

Tom paused, thinking it over for a moment. "I don't know. Perhaps one of the Black girls."

"What's so special about them, anyway?"

"Purebloods, dark and wicked." Tome stated clearly. "Pity that they have such deviations as Sirius."

"Indeed." Lucius agreed. "Bellatrix?"

Tom laughed. "You know me too well."

"Yes." Lucius murmured. "I do."

"You should go for Narcissa, you know."

"Why?"

"You need a son, too."

"You're obsessed with that."

"Just a little."

"We're sixteen."

"So?"

"Nevermind."

"That's what I thought."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yes, I got lazy and didn't have a lot of description. Meh. It's the dialogue that's important, you know.


	3. An Unlikely Story

An Unlikely Story

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius lounged in the Three Broomsticks, on a lazy afternoon, or once alone. James was off playing Quidditch, Remus was recovering from the previous nights romping through the school, (There was this thing with a mirror and a backfired spell) and Peter…well, he was probably following James around, like usual. 

Sirius tipped his chair backwards, balancing on the legs. He blearily stared at a half empty bottle of Butterbeer, wondering why the damming liquid was starting to look amber. A beautiful, smooth honey amber that the young wizard wanted to drown in. 

"Moony." Sirius murmured.  "My dear, dear Moony." They were other ways that he had wanted to spill out his heart to the young werewolf. The one that he had blurted…not among the best. 

What he wanted to say:

Sirius: Moony, you're everything and anything that is good and great in the world, and I don't care that you're a werewolf. … I want you.

What he really said:

Sirius: Hey Moony.

Remus: Hi.

Sirius: How's it going?

Remus: Good. 

Sirius: That's good. … Okay. Now don't freak out, but I kind of… well…like you. 

Remus: *silence* 

Sirius: I mean…_like_ like you.

Remus: *silence*

Sirius: Okay?

Remus: Okay…

Sirius: Okay. I'll…see you later then.

Remus: Okay.

And it had all gone downhill from there. Sirius cut off the memory, falling forward so that his chair hit he floor with a thump. "Moony…" He sighed. "Remus…"

"Drunk and depressed, Sirius?" A pleasant voice asked. "How lovely."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Imagine that. Only my fourth bottle and already I'm imagining annoying specters."

Lucius sneered at him as he and his companion came into sight. Tom Riddle inclined his head to Sirius, slightly. For some strange backwards reason, Sirius and Tom got along quite well. … Or as well as could be expected for a Slytherin and a Gryffindor. 

"Might we join you?" Tom asked. Lucius made to protest, but he ignored him as Sirius waved to the seats. 

"Something you want, Tom?" Sirius asked, signaling Mme Rosmerta for a round of butterbeer. 

"Not really." Tom said. "Just here for a drink. I have other things to do tonight."

Sirius eyed Lucius, who was sitting at the table like it was a foreign idea to him. "I'm sure."

Tom grinned at the insinuation. "Indeed. Won't be drinking you under the table tonight, I'm afraid."

"Doubt you could." Sirius said casually. 

The dark-haired Slytherin raised an eyebrow, rising to the challenge. "Oh, I don't know…" He said. "Lucius can hold quite a lot." He nudged the blonde.

Sirius snorted, eyes glimmering. "Yeah. Right."

Lucius totally missed the joke of the situation. "Is that a bet?"

"Taking it, blondie?" Sirius shot back.

Lucius glanced sideward at Tom, who only smiled and waited for the answer. He looked back to Sirius. "You're on."

~~

"Quit moving, will you! I'm trying to throw this bottle at your head!"

"Oh…sorry 'bout that… How's this?"

"Dammit, Lucy-ish, sit still!"

"You know what, Sirish, _you_ sit still!"

"I am."

"Oh. Then maybe I should sit still."

"You do that."

"What were we talking about?"

"…"

"Sirish?"

"I dunno. Your hair is fuzzy."

"Shudup. Where'd Tom go?"

"I dunno. I should go."

"Ha…beat you.."

"Here. Have this last bottle. Winner's prize."

"Cool."

"And your hair's still fuzzy."

"Is not."

"Bye."

"Wimp."

~~

Sirius groaned into his pillow the next morning. _Damn butterbeer…why does his have to be so good and yet so mean to you the next morning?_ He rolled over and flopped out of the bed. "Gyeah!!"

A pillow hit him in the shoulder. "People are trying to sleep here!"

"Bite me!"

Sirius untangled his legs from the sheets and scrambled around for a pair of pants. With a glance at a certain Gryffindor's bed, he tossed the pillow back at James and left the dorm. He was sitting in the Great Hall, nursing a cup of coffee when Lucius burst into the room. 

"DAMMIT, SIRIUS! WHAT THE HELL IS IT WITH YOU AND MY HAIR!"

Sirius made a noise that suspiciously sounded like 'heehee,' and waved cheerfully at Lucius. "It's only for a month or two, Lucy!"

"DAMMIT!"

The Slytherin stomped up the isle between the tables, amist the laughter and snickering of the other tables. His long blond hair flowed out behind him, but the tips were randomly spelling out words in color like, "Sirius is my God" or "I wear a wig," or "yes, I do dye my hair."

Lucius lunged at him, but Sirius skipped backwards, knocking the cup of coffee onto the front of Lucius' robes.

Then there was some loud swearing.

And some fighting. Which caused some teachers to step in.

Which caused some detention.

Which still made Sirius laugh, because it was all worth it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

As if Sirius would get drunk without a reason or motive behind it. … He was only going to have a few! …But then Lucius came along… It wasn't his fault, really.  

Lucius: Dammit. *pulls at his hair*

Sirius: I don't go 'heehee'

Me: Ya do now. 


	4. Alcohol and Best Mates

Alcohol and Best Mates Rating/Warnings: Yaoi. Angst. Swearing and drunkenness. The usual. Rated R, to be safe.  
  
A/N: Time to meet Blaise and his Irish Import, Liam. I rp as both of them. Also, I rp Blaise as a metamorphamagus or whatever it's called...you know, what Tonks is. That's my explanation for his seemingly gender-lackage.

* * *

"Part One"  
  
Blaise laughed and knocked into Liam, both of them stumbling as they staggered down the dusty path. Another brilliant summer night spent boozing and laughing and lurching about. Wonderful.  
Liam wrapped a long arm around Blaise, bringing the other lad close to him. He chuckled into the collar of Blaise' blue shirt, breath smelling strongly of Guinness. "Well, 'bout ye, Blaise?"  
Blaise tripped sending them to fall against a stonewall. He laughed. "Never better, Liam... Never better..." He sighed, and they slipped to sit on the grass, half in an embrace. "I live for days like these."  
" Don't we all, flah, don't we all..." Liam murmured, brushing his lips against Blaise's chin. One hand slipped between the buttons of the blue shirt.  
Blaise jerked, looking down at Liam. "What are you doing?" Liam looked at him. " Don't tell me ye've never got off with someone, Blaise."  
"Excuse me?" Blaise said. "You're my best friend!"  
Liam squinted at him, confused. He pulled away, sitting up. "Well, ye got me flummoxed..." Liam said, scratching his head. "I though ye were... " He laughed lightly. "Well...I'm stung."  
Blaise stared at him for a moment. "You thought I was what?"  
"Hmm? Oh. It's nothing - Just the Guinness talking."  
"Bullocks." Blaise said. "You didn't nearly have enough to let the booze talk. What you were saying?"  
Liam looked at him over his shoulder. "I thought somethin' that obviously ain't so, and now I'm going to dander on home." He stood, bracing himself against the wall. "See ye in the morn, Blaise."  
Blaise wobbly stood and rested a hand on Liam's shoulder. "Stop it. What's going on?"  
"It seemed clear that ye were fancying somethings, but I missaw what it was." Liam smiled at Blaise. "Let it lye, boyo. I meant nothing."  
Blaise watched blearily as Liam tottered away, whistling in the night. What the hell was all that about?  
  
"Part Two"  
  
Liam and Blaise flopped in the grass, breath frosting on late autumn air. Breathing hard and pulses hammering wildly, their laughter echoed, for once not because of the ringing in their ears. That night was one of those rare sober nights, and either way, it was nice.  
"Can I ask you something?" Blaise said suddenly. "Promise you won't freak out?  
Liam propped himself up on one arm, turning to face his friend. "Sure."  
"Have you ever..." Blaise seemed hesitant. "Been attracted to a guy?"  
"O' course." Liam said casually, playing with the seam of his coat. "Why?"  
"I dunno." Blaise said uncertainly. "I mean, I like girls, but I like guys too..."  
"It's called being bisexual." Liam said. " Don't get up in riles about it - it isn't bad."  
"No," Blaise agreed, "It's not, but it's like...it feels somehow wrong. Like I should be swinging one way, and I don't know which it is."  
Liam studied Blaise carefully. "Not meaning to be rude, but do you have your shapeshifting sorted out?"  
Blaise' features shifted, hazel eyes momentarily changing blue, then violet and back. He sighed and sat up. "Sort of."  
Liam nodded. "Thought as much. Listen - walk around a bit - test things out, you know? You'll find a way."  
"It's embarrassing, though." Blaise muttered. "I couldn't just go up to someone and start something with them..."  
Liam moved closer to Blaise. "Then trust in a friend, aye?" He locked gazes with the other boy, suggestively raising an eyebrow.  
"What are you saying?"  
"You're my best mate, Blaise. I'll give my help, if need be."  
"You're not serious, are you?"  
" Don't tell me you'd be embarrassed with me, lad - I've already seen you drunk, horny and naked."  
Blaise blushed slightly. "And vice versa."  
"Aye - now are you wanting my offer?"  
Blaise thought about it for a second, staring at Liam. Liam smiled and waited.  
  
"Part Three"  
  
Another blurry memory, half hidden in a mist of sweet tasting alcohol. This time it was winter - cold and frosty. There was snow falling and drifting down from the sky. Blaise and Liam danced about drunkenly in it, bleeding a bit here and there. It was just after a bar room fight, which Liam had purposely started in an attempt to keep warm.  
Dizzy, and not any warmer than he wanted to be, Liam wrapped long arms around Blaise, deciding to use a ploy that every wise man used at least once in his lifetime.  
"You know what?"  
Blaise shivered, resting his head on the shorter boy's shoulder. "What?"  
"I had this uncle who went on a penguin expedition in the north."  
"Musta been cold." Blaise mumbled.  
Liam smiled, running a finger along the twisting tendons in Blaise's neck. "Aye, it was, lad." Blaise smiled, breath ghosting over Liam's cheek. "You want to know what he did to keep from freezing to death?"  
"Put on a sweater?"  
"No-" Liam laughed. "He shared his body heat - however little - with another person."  
Blaise yawned. "Li?"  
"Blaise?"  
"I think I may just be freezing to death."  
"Oh, I can fix that..." 


	5. Gravestones

Gravestones

Rating/Warnings: Rated PG. There's yaoi, and death mentions. Angst, too. Not much really.  
  
A/N: Takes place during sometime between the end of book three and the end of book five...'cuz we all know what happens at the end of book five. glare Also, don't know if Sirius was really disowned, but...still...

* * *

Foul Mood. That was the only way to describe it. The only dreadful, bloody awful way to describe it. 

"I wish you'd stop brooding." Remus said, examining the night's sky outside one of the many windows of the Black Mansion. "You've been doing nothing by sulk for the last week."

"I want to play Quidditch." Sirius said, pressing into Remus from behind. "Get some air." Remus sighed, leaning back against the taller man.

"You're a wanted convict to both Muggles and wizards, if you remember." Sirius rested his head on Remus' shoulder, not saying anything. Knowing what else was wrong, Remus softly added, "And James isn't here to play with."

The dark-haired marauder sighed, pulling away from Remus. He walked a short, tight circle in the living room, biting one lip. "What was it...that was on his gravestone?" He asked; it was a question that he had asked already, but never wanted to remember.

"Fly on without me." Remus said quietly. Sirius sighed again, and flopped onto the couch, propping his feet up on one of the armrests.

"Yes... He would have wanted that." Sirius replied distantly. "What about Lily's?"

Remus made a face at the window, running his finger randomly through the mist on the glass. "Why don't you go and visit their grave?" Remus suggested, relenting on his earlier decision about his lover wandering around outside. "You weren't at the funeral; you've never even seen the cemetery—"

"I will not." Sirius said harshly, turning to press his face into the couch cushions. "I don't need to see it." Remus combed his hair with his fingers, going to join Sirius on the couch.

"I think you do," He said. "Go at least once, Sirius."

"I...don't want to..."

Remus snuggled in beside Sirius, snaking his arms around his torso. "Why?" The werewolf felt the movement that meant Sirius had sighed again.

"Because then it'd be like they're really dead, and I'm not ready to admit that." "It's been fourteen years..." Sirius shuffled around so that he was facing Remus. "Twelve of them were in Azkaban, were nothing feels, let alone feels real, and the other two were stuck here in this godforsaken house that I thought I'd never seen again."

"Well, you inherited it."

"I shouldn't have." Sirius grumbled. "My aunt thought she was doing me a favor, working me into the will...doesn't she know that it was a happy, happy day when I was disowned?"

"She was being nice."

"A Black?" Sirius snorted into Remus' shirt collar. "I spent all my life trying to get out of here – now that it belongs to the Order, I'm trapped in here again" He ran his hand through Remus' hair, mussing it up. "I want to go home. You still live in the London flat?"

"I still have it." Remus said. "But we can't leave, you know." He gave Sirius a look that said 'especially you.'

"Well...you could go for 'groceries' and I could go on a 'mission'..." He grinned, a spark of his old marauder-self abruptly surfacing Remus smiled.

"I don't think that'd work."

Sirius pretended to think about the scenario seriously. "Well, then you could go on the 'mission', and I could go for 'groceries.' Then we could meet-"

"Sirius."

He trailed off slowly, an impish smile on his face. "Right. Of course. It was just a thought."

"I know you want out of the house, but you can't..."

"Fine, but expect a distraction, then." Sirius grinned at Remus, who fondly rolled his eyes. Sirius kissed him, pushing broody thoughts of the house and of James and Lily momentarily to one side.

* * *

For no particular reason, I'd like to say that this new formatting is pissing me off.

Cheers.


	6. Department of Mysteries 1 of 5

The Department of Mysteries – Part One of Five

Rating/Warnings: PG, Fifth Book Spoilers, Plot Changes, Yaoi  
  
A/N: This is how I interpret the Veil in relation to the RP that I am in. Enjoy.

* * *

In critical times for the one and only Sirius Black, the dark featured lad resorted to talking to himself. Sure, it made you look a tad nutty, but considering the situation, it can't usually be avoided. Oh well. Everyone's a bit bonkers sometimes.  
  
Floating, half alive, half dead, Sirius tiredly started a list.  
  
"I am...cold... I feel...cold... I want..."  
  
He thought about it, feeling his thoughts whisper to him in the dark void of the veil. He didn't like what he heard, and ignored it. The weird falling feeling that he was experiencing fluttered and images from his memories shimmered into existence to join him. One particular person faded into his presence, smiling gently at Sirius as he knelt on the thick darkness to hug him. Sirius embraced him back, arms sliding through the shade's torso.  
  
"How are you doing?" The specter asked.  
  
"Cold, Moony." Sirius replied. "I don't know where I am..."  
  
Remus sat back on his haunches, hands resting on his knees. His russet hair hung loosely around his kind face, going out in gentle waves. His bangs stopped just above amber eyes, and the longest locks barely dusted the top of his shoulders. Sirius gazed at him for a moment, not caring if he was real or if he was just a figment of his imagination. It took him a moment to register that he had said something. "What?"  
  
"I said that I don't know where you are either." He said, and with an expression that Sirius never recalled him possessing, Remus tilted his head. "What do you want?"  
  
"You." Sirius responded immediately, knowing the answer in his cold-filled bones. "I want to be warm."  
  
"Maybe that's what you want," Remus agreed, "But that's not that reason."  
  
"What? But that's all I ever-"  
  
Remus interrupted him. "Yes, but what's the reason, Sirius?"  
  
He looked helplessly at his hands, confused. "I...love you, Remus..." He said quietly, painfully.  
  
"And?"  
  
Exasperated, Sirius stood. "And? And what?"  
  
Remus stood as well, examining at his face with a neutral expression. "Get in touch with your fuzzy side." He suggested. "Why do you want me?"  
  
Sirius stared at him, shrugging powerlessly. "I – I don't know... I just do..." With a terrible aching in his chest, Sirius looked away. "What is this place?"  
  
"How would I know?" Said Remus.  
  
"You seem to know everything." Sirius replied.  
  
"I didn't know about Peter."  
  
Sirius spun to face Remus, shocked. "None of us did." He said, startled.  
  
Remus nodded, passing through Sirius as he moved forward. The sensation was a strange one, and Sirius shivered. "You can't blame yourself forever."  
  
"Neither can you."  
  
Remus pinned him with a 'we're-talking-about-you-not-me' look. "I'm not the one trapped in guilt."  
  
"I'm not trapped in guilt." Sirius muttered.  
  
Remus raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Oh? And what do you think this place is?" 


	7. Department of Mysteries 2 of 5

The Department of Mysteries – Part Two of Five

Rating/Warnings: PG, Fifth Book Spoilers, Plot Changes, Yaoi  
  
A/N: The second part of the previous chapter, so I suggest that you read the other one. Enjoy.

* * *

Sirius lay back on nothing, staring up into nothing, having said nothing for the last...who knows how long... "So." He finally said, his words drifting almost lazily from his mouth. "I've been thinking."  
  
Remus had been reading a novel, but he paused in his reading to look over at his friend and lover. "I'll alert the press." He said with a smile.  
  
Sirius tossed him an impish smile, letting the comment pass. "I've been floating here, freezing on the inside, not knowing what's going to happen, and I've realized something..."  
  
"And what's that?" Remus asked.  
  
Sirius sat up, expression thoughtful. "You aren't real."  
  
Remus only stared at him. "Really...I thought you might have realized that a lot sooner..."  
  
Sirius shook his head, getting to his feet to pace. "I did, but it just hit me. This is like talking to myself, isn't it?"  
  
The book that the shade had been holding dissolved away as he set it down. "I guess you could say that."  
  
"So you're my conscience?"  
  
"Or a delusion."  
  
Sirius nodded. "Yeah, so, whichever you are –if not both –I'm going to keep talking to you." There was a pause. "I'm glad you're here, even if you're not real."  
  
"I love—"The fake marauder stopped. "He loves you, you know."  
  
"I know." Sirius ran a hand through his hair. "And I can't even..."  
  
"Can't even-?" Remus prompted.  
  
As if he were a balloon slowly deflating, Sirius sighed heavily. "I can't even see him again."  
  
Remus moved to stand in front of him, peering into a saddened face. "How do you know that? Who says you won't see anyone again." Sirius raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the dark void around them. "Well," Remus said, "You shouldn't just give up."  
  
Sirius turned away from him, wishing there was somewhere that he could curl up and just sleep. The darkness didn't want him – or didn't let him – rest. "Is this really my guilt?" He asked, after a moment. "Am I swimming in my guilt?"  
  
"I wouldn't say 'swimming,' but I think this place reflects your inner mind."  
  
Sirius flopped backwards, unnerved that there felt like there was a floor under his back. "My inner mind is guilty?"  
  
Remus shrugged. "Deep down, maybe... What about James and Lily? Harry? Remus?" His head tilted. "Even Peter?"  
  
Sirius wanted to say that he didn't feel guilty about what happened to Peter, but he did. He felt guilty that he had let him go. He felt guilty that the squirming little runt was probably with the Dark Lord, plotting Harry's demise. That was what he was guilty about. Nothing more.  
  
Sirius was silent.


	8. Department of Mysteries 3 of 5

The Department of Mysteries – Part Three of Five

Rating/Warnings: PG, Fifth Book Spoilers, Plot Changes, Yaoi  
  
A/N: The third part of mini series, so I suggest that you read the other two before reading this. Enjoy. 

* * *

"What do you want, Sirius?"  
  
"I want you to stop asking me that."  
  
"What else?"  
  
"...A sandwich."  
  
"You aren't hungry."  
  
"But I should be."  
  
Remus sighed, rubbing his eyes with one hand. Sirius had grown grumpy over the stretch of unrecorded time, now regarding the handsome shade with narrowed eyes. "What do you want, Sirius?"  
  
Sirius crossed his arms. "You. We went over this."  
  
"What else?" Remus asked again.  
  
"I. Don't. KNOW." Sirius cried, throwing up his arms. "Freedom, maybe? A blanket? To get out of here, even?" He glowered at Remus. "I don't know – I want a lot of things!"  
  
"Is forgiveness on that list?" Remus wanted to know.  
  
"Forgiveness?" Sirius said stonily. "For what?"  
  
"James...Harry...Peter..."  
  
"I do not want forgiveness for what happened with Peter." Sirius said sharply. "I hate him. I would kill him for what he did to James and Lily."  
  
Remus was playing with an eagle feather quill that he had pulled from nowhere. "Hate is destructive."  
  
"And love is healing. So the wheel turns."  
  
Remus fluttered the quill in one hand as if writing. "You want forgiveness for how that situation turned out, Sirius – switching Secret Keepers and leading to James and Lily's death. Hence – James' forgiveness."  
  
"And not Lily's?"  
  
Remus's direct gaze pinned Sirius once more. "Be honest, with yourself. You only valued Lily's opinion when James asked you to. You like her well enough, but, for you, she was only an accessory to the James Potter collection."  
  
"That's a harsh way to put it." Sirius muttered. "I like Lily."  
  
Remus nodded. "Yes, but you loved James and you loved Remus. They were the two most important people in the world to you. It was the same with Peter. You only liked him. He was only another addition."  
  
Sirius twisted his spine, creating a loud cracking sound. "You have quite the way with words." He observed.  
  
"Don't flatter yourself." Remus said sternly. "You want James' forgiveness, which leads to Harry's."  
  
"For not being the Godfather and guardian I was supposed to be."  
  
"You're catching on..." The shade said. "And Remus' forgiveness?"  
  
Sirius didn't say anything.  
  
"Fine." Remus said. "I'll say it."  
  
"I don't want to hear it." Sirius said, his voice cracking.  
  
"Of course not," the other said brutally. "You don't want to think about how you hurt him deeply. How you promised to live with and love him forever—"  
  
"I still love him." Sirius said quietly. "I've never stopped loving him."  
  
"But are you still with him?" Remus pointed out.  
  
Sirius' anger flared. "It's hardly in my control!"  
  
Remus, instead of backing off, was suddenly excited. "Yes. Exactly." He leaned close to Sirius' face, grinning. "That's the whole point of this!" With a touch that was as soft as a gentle wind, Remus kissed him. He didn't pass through Sirius. Then the shade vanished.  
  
Sirius blinked, uncertain and alone. "Remus?"  
  
The artificial marauder didn't return.


	9. Department of Mysteries 4 of 5

The Department of Mysteries – Part Four of Five

Rating/Warnings: PG, Fifth Book Spoilers, Plot Changes, Yaoi  
  
A/N: The fourth part of mini series, I hope that you know by now to read the other parts. Enjoy!

* * *

He floated for a long while, utterly alone once more in the dark embrace of the veil. Try as he might, he couldn't recall the specter that looked like Remus. He couldn't do anything but sink there, watching his past drift past him, tainting him with their depressing darkness. Azkaban... It was a long and dreadful blur, calling up images he vaguely recalled. The icy cold of Dementors, screams and mad ramblings...the day that Bellatrix and her husband were brought in...so many moons of cowering painfully under the single cot... So many horrible smears of memory.  
  
Sirius found himself falling gently into scenery, feet touching down on the scorched ruins of where Godric's Hallow once stood. The area was different. It was...healing somehow. This wasn't a memory. He hadn't ever been back to the Hallow since that day...he simply didn't have the chance.  
  
James materialized at his side; hair sticking in all directions, but remaining out of his line of sight. "Not quite what you expected is it?"  
  
"I've never seen this." Sirius said blandly.  
  
"No, neither did I really." James pulled him by the arm onto the grounds. "After we saw Harry at the tournament, Lily and I came back here. Just to see, you know."  
  
"You aren't real." Sirius said, stopping on a fresh patch of green grass.  
  
James shook his head. "Oh, I'm very real, Mr. Black. Dead, but real."  
  
Sirius didn't argue, but shoved his hands into his pockets. "Where are we, Prongs?"  
  
"The ruins of the past, Padfoot."  
  
"I meant-"  
  
"I know." James said. "The veil's a mysterious circumstance, Padfoot. I think it's a separate dimension of sorts. Not the living world, but not the dead world either."  
  
"How do I leave?" Sirius asked.  
  
James shrugged. "I dunno."  
  
Sirius sighed. "You're not being helpful, you know."  
  
James kicked at a piece of old burnt brick. "Yeah, well, I'm dead."  
  
Sirius's expression twisted for a moment. "I'm sorry, Prongs." He said.  
  
"I know." The other replied.  
  
Remembering what the phantom Remus had said, Sirius asked, "Can you forgive me?"  
  
"No."  
  
It stung, but Sirius had been preparing for it. "I...understand." His heart sank. Even Prongs couldn't forgive him. What chance did he have with-  
  
"God, Padfoot!" James laughed, pushing him lightly. "Have you lost your sense of humor entirely?"  
  
Sirius gawked at him, mouth hanging open. "You—? But..." James just laughed harder, holding his stomach. "I thought you were being serious!"  
  
"Heh..." The former seeker wiped a tear from his eye. "I forgave you long ago, Sirius. It wasn't your fault, you know. There was nothing you could do. I know Peter betrayed us all."  
  
"How did you know that it was Peter?"  
  
James smiled at him wryly. "Living in Voldemort's wand does that to you."  
  
Sirius looked at him, aghast. "You lived in—"  
  
"It was quite the party, let me tell you..." James said this as if it was a joke, but his downcast gaze said otherwise. "Besides, we aren't anymore."  
  
"...Are you happy, where you are?"  
  
James nodded. "Most of the time. I miss you. And Moony. And my son." His gaze brightened suddenly. "Oh! And Quidditch! And cookies!" He had a dreamy look. "Cookies..."  
  
Sirius shook his head with a smile. "Of everything, you say cookies. How can you possibly be hungry?"  
  
"Aren't you?"  
  
"No."  
  
James suddenly pointed at him. "Lies, Padfoot. Stop lying to yourself."  
  
Sirius threw his hands to the air. "I am not—"  
  
James made a face. "I forgave you. Lily, being Lily, never even blamed you. Harry will too. But it will take a little work with Remus."  
  
"Remus..." Sirius suddenly remembered something. "Remus said that there was a point to this-"  
  
"When did you talk to Remus?" James asked curiously.  
  
"Actually, I was hallucinating or something, but that's besides the point..." James gave him a weird look, and Sirius waved a hand at him. "He said that this was not in my control and that that was the point. What do you think?"  
  
James scratched his head. "Well, maybe...Remus...is trying to say that you can't control everything – that if you let go of some stuff, it'll just happen as it's suppose to. You, know...let Fate take care of fate."  
  
They stood there for a moment, not saying anything.  
  
"That was very profound, Prongs."  
  
James grinned. "That was, wasn't it?" They laughed for a while, looking around at the lighted scenery. "It was good to see you, Padfoot." James said with a smile.  
  
Sirius hugged him, smiling. "You too, Prongs."  
  
"Go home, Sirius."  
  
And Sirius abruptly felt like he was rising very fast, and James and the Hallow disappeared. He blinked and finally fell asleep. 


	10. Department of Mysteries 5 of 5

The Department of Mysteries – Part Five of Five   
Rating/Warnings: PG, Fifth Book Spoilers, Plot Changes, Yaoi  
  
A/N: Final part of this little mini series – please read other four first. Cheers!

* * *

Sirius' eyes snapped open as he suddenly fell backwards, arms reaching out to the ceiling. He hit the floor, head knocking it hard enough to make his vision blur. He was lying on cold stone, dirt and dust and other unmentionable grit wiping off on his cheeks and clothes. It was a struggle to sit up; his arms felt like rubber, and his muscles were weak – as if they hadn't been used in months. Sirius coughed, jaw cracking as he opened it, and coughed again to try and get rid of the fuzzy feeling in his mouth. He instantly jerked as his shoe bumped against a hard metal frame. Sirius looked up sluggishly, hit his elbow on the floor and stared up at the tall, looming frame of the Veil. Only after a moment of gaping up at it with hate and horror, did Sirius realize that his wand was still gripped in numb fingers. The heavy, fraying cloth fluttered and Sirius used his hands to pull back his feet as it drifted past. Wand clenched between his teeth, he clawed at the wall and tried to pull himself to his feet, but his legs refused to respond.  
  
_Godric's socks...how long was I in there?_  
  
Sirius shot a glare at the Veil, before taking a poll on the condition of his body. His legs weren't working, but his upper body was fine enough. Sirius' fingers explored the rip in the front of his robes, remembering his final face off with Bellatrix. The spell she had thrown at him – it must have messed up his system. He could still feel the electric shock rocketing through his nerves.  
  
_Damn Bellatrix._  
  
Sirius pulled down an empty shelf and positioned himself on it, entertaining the idea of using the veil's curtain as a stretcher for a split second. The idea was immediately trashed when Sirius admitted to himself that he couldn't look at the damn thing, much less touch it. Sirius waved his wand at the plank of wood, muttering a spell. The plank lifted from the ground and floated. Sirius indicated the direction that he wanted to go by a wave of his hand, and the plank started to float. Just as he was passing out the door of the Veil's room, the charm started to sag under the weight, and Sirius was deposited on the ground. The charm wasn't powerful enough to lift Sirius' entire weight, and Sirius didn't have the magical strength left to aid it.  
  
"Fuck."  
  
_Too heavy. Not enough magical reserves. Legs are gimped. Stuck in the Department of Mysteries, and everyone I know thinks I'm dead. Or is dead. ... I wonder what happened..._  
  
He started to think about it.  
  
_Wait. No. I can do that later. I have to get out of here.  
_  
Sirius concentrated, setting his wand on the plank carefully. He had to get lighter – then he could just float right on out of there.  
  
The change to Padfoot was surprisingly painful. The familiar fuzzy form that he had been able to change into so easily for the last fourteen years was stiff and tight. It used to be like putting on a favorite shirt, but now it was like getting into leather pants when it's hot outside and you're very wet. It was like the first time when Sirius had tried his animagi form, and he instinctively checked for splinched parts. Everything was where it was supposed to be, but Sirius found that his back legs still didn't work.  
  
The stretcher lifted slowly, and Sirius shook his head in the direction that he wanted to go. It turned carefully and started on its way.  
  
_Now...I wonder what happened... _

* * *

Sirius snarled as he fell into the hallway, kicking his one working leg at a tentacle trying to strangle him. Grabbing the doorknob, Sirius slammed the door shut, and crawled to the far wall. He lay there for a moment, panting, swearing and spitting blood.  
  
_At least I got out_.  
  
He glanced at the elevator door to his right.  
  
_Sorta out. Need to get out of the Ministry, now..._  
  
Falling back on his ever-faithful disguise, Sirius shifted to Padfoot again. It hurt less this time and it was well on its way to feeling like that familiar shirt again. Sirius limped over to the elevator, pushing the button for the ground floor with his nose. He then sat down, and waited.  
  
And waited.  
  
And waited.  
  
The doors to the elevator opened, and Sirius yelped as the woman getting in stepped on his tail. He swept it out of the way as she looked down at him, glaring with overly familiar lavender eyes.  
  
_Narcissa?  
_  
"What are you looking at?" She said to Sirius crossly, not realizing who it really was. "What's a dog doing in here anyway?"  
  
Sirius barked at her. [Escaping for my life, thank-you.]  
  
"Don't bark at me, you filthy mutt!"  
  
[Mutt? I'm a purebred, you know!]  
  
"I said stop that!" Narcissa stamped her foot, hands on her hips. "Or I'll take you to the front desk!"  
  
_Whoops._  
  
"That's what I thought."  
  
Narcissa kicked at Sirius halfheartedly, glaring. Sirius had followed her out of the Ministry, using her as a way to open doors and go through them without being noticed. Narcissa didn't appreciate it, though, and finally faced the animagi.  
  
"Why are you following me?"  
  
_I need a home...  
_  
Whine.  
  
"S...stop following me, you silly dog."  
  
_My leg hurts...c'mon, 'sissa..._  
  
Whine. Puppy eyes.  
  
"I'm not taking you home."  
  
Sirius pulled at her skirt hem, indicating the alleyway. He limped into it, and shifted back.  
  
Narcissa peered in at him. "Doggy?"  
  
"Narcissa...help me..."  
  
"SIRIUS?"  
  
-Fin-

* * *

**_And that was how Snuffles the Adorable Grim came to live at the Malfoy Manor. Tada._**

* * *


End file.
